Can I borrow a dollar?

... or to be more accurate can 1000 different people lend me a dollar, or if there is one really generous person out there that would make my day.

I will elaborate more with this evenings release of the long awaited columum:

I wanna be adored, or why selling my soul seems like a bad idea because the profit won't pay my student loans (or my bar bill)

Wine, Beer, and Guitar Hero

There has always been something interesting about the rock star image. Anyone who is not an athlete or a pure academic can completely agree with me when I make the falling obvious (and highly vapid and hopelessly pointless comment) "I want to fucking ROCK". My generation has been so comsumed with music it is impossible to live a single day without rocking out (and I probably do it more than most). When I was in high school having a discman and twenty cds was pretty bitching for most, I myself had upwards of 400 when i graduated (I worked at a cd store so just give me the benfit of the doubt, but yes I am that guy). Anyway, the point of this is that today only four years after my graduation, I do not have one friend who still uses a cd player, well maybe one, but everyone else I know has some sort of ipodesque music device (i myself have an 80gb, and that is not gloating, that is just an explanation of how fucked up I am in this mass media society that we live).

The reason for this post may not make much sense considering the wine and beer ( and beam,yes I am drinking beam, and the whiskey snobs that know me please dont judge me you know where I come from, and did I say how lame I am). The point of this comes from last night and tonight. I was playing guitar hero at two different places, with two different groups of friends, and the point is this: how in the fuck is any of this real rock n roll? I am pushing 5 buttons( okay only four because i suck too hard to play any level past medium), yet i feel like an axe weilding god, Hendrix will bow before me. I feel like a guitar God, for no real reason other than the fact that my star power has reached a level that makes the imaginary scene tell me that the crowd loves me. But isnt this how our life is. We consume, and consume and consume (today I bought a pair of Nike Air Zoom FC's, and if you know what they are you are equally as lame as I am, and probably equally as vapid and poor). I acknowledge that I consume, and consume, and consume, but i dont say that in a negative way, even though I mean it to be a negative thing, I view it as a positive. I have over 700 hundred cds and 200 vinyl, and and more music equipment such as instruments and random recording and playing devices. Why, because I want to rock!!!!!!!!

Now wanting to rock comes from a real and very important reason, the society that we live in has degenerated so far that it seems impossible to find any real enjoyment in anything that does not revolve around comsuming. I want to see a sunrise and feel the same way Neruda did when he wrote his poetry, or the way that anyone who crossed the great plains in the 1800's did when they first saw the Rockies, but if I went to the rockies today what would I see. A fucking starbucks and a banana republic. How is that fucking beautiful? So what other choice do I have, I am forced to live in a fantasy world if I want to view anything close to beauty. I delude myself with the consumation of clothing and music so that I can feel like a rock star. So what am I going to do now, I am going to crack another beer, grab the guitar hero controller and rock out in my head because that seems more real to me than whatever this is that we are in now. Star Power!!!

What the F@*# is this?

During a conversation concerning nothing in particular about absolutely meanings ramblings, which for some unknown reason seemed to be unreasonably tantalizing, I made a highly obvious statement, "What the fuck is this?"  Now this is not a new phrase to come out of my mouth and if you get to know me which is highly possible because I am not sure why anyway besides people that know me would waste their time reading a blog from an egotistical, pseudo-hipster (let be known, I probably would not befriend me if I knew me for reasons that should become clear).  But anyway, I use the phrase "what the fuck is this?" in almost every conversation but at this point it was probably one of the few times were I properly used this statement.  I have had just as many equally boring conversations about about unreasonably tantalizing, and absolutely meaningless topics as I have had about why I have these conversations and why in the hell I have them.  

The point was raised today by my much more interesting friend/hipness odometer what have you, that most of my cognitive capacity is filled with so much mindless and useless information (in any practical sense, and scoring high while playing couch jeopardy does not count).  His suggestion: each night before I go to bed write out, but really who writes anymore (besides that kid in your english class that can find a deep meaning in the most vapid works of spoken word poetry or possibly the newest 8.5 band on pitchfork, no one writes anymore, we jsut type, and if you saw my handwriting it would be blatantly obvious), all the things that i have learned that day, that will have no importance in my life and then I can erase it from my memory bank, in theory at least but let's be honest, I still won't forget it, I will just continue to remember it all and on top of it think about it more because I have created a new compulsive outlet in my life that no matter how much I deny it, I would scratch the paint of walls if I couldn't perform each night before staring at my wall for the next 7 hours.

Anyway, that is what this is, my outlet for all useless things.  This is probably enough for a flagship posting, but I should probably give some ideas of what I am going to be writing about in the future.  In no particular order:

-I wanna be adored, or why selling my soul seems like a bad idea because the profit won't pay my student loans (or my bar bill)

-Which is a sadder state, wanting to find some blow just to listen to coke addled music, or finding 80' manchester music inspiring and uplifting?

-Who the fuck runs across the "Eisenhower" (if you don't know what that is don't worry its not that important to the story)?

-Am I serious, or the sad state of affairs that would make one think so

These and many more will be coming soon, now I am going to go star at my wall for the next seven hours because I am really tired.